


pretty in green

by jhoom



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom!Cas, Canon verse, M/M, panty!kink, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 23:09:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8509180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jhoom/pseuds/jhoom
Summary: Castiel makes a surprise purchase for Dean, one that Dean definitely does not want any part of.  Okay maybe he does a little.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this was just supposed to be a quick thing where cas bought dean panties and then somehow they had sex ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> come visit me on tumblr at [jhoomwrites](http://jhoomwrites.tumblr.com)

Dean looks at the strange garment, complete with a little bow, laid out on the bed.  The material looks soft, but he’s frozen in the doorway to his room and can’t even fathom bringing himself to actually _touch_  it.  

“Cas!” he calls, knowing the angel must be nearby.  Dean sure as hell didn’t buy... _these_ and Sam, for all his enjoyment of pranking Dean, wouldn’t have done _this_.   ~~Probably because he knows it hits a little too close to home to be okay.~~

The angel appears from his room across the hallway.  "Yes Dean?”

“Care to explain...”  And he waves his hand vaguely towards the offending article of clothing.

“Oh.”  He carefully steps around Dean and into the room.  Because of his own impending mortification, Dean closes the door behind him.  “Yes,” Cas continues.  “I saw these while I was purchasing new shoes at the mall.”

“And you just figured you’d buy them and leave them on my _bed_?”  He goes for stern annoyance but probably sounds like he’s about to have a stroke.

“I purchased them for you.”  And just like that it feels like the temperature’s gone up a good fifteen degrees in the room.  Dean pulls at the edges of his collar, trying to _breathe_.  “I put them on your bed to make sure you saw them.”

He fidgets a little under the angel’s azure gaze, steady and calm and so fucking oblivious to just how _ridiculous_  this whole scenario is.  “Cas.”  His throat is dry so he swallows to try and make his voice catch a little less.  “These are panties.”

The guy tilts his head and squints.  Very slowly, as though speaking to a child, he says, “Yes.  I thought you might like them.”

“These are _panties!”_ he repeats (though carefully keeping his voice down so Sam won’t come to investigate).  “These are _woman’s_  underwear!  Why would you buy them for me?   _Why_  would you think I’d like them?”

Somehow Cas doesn’t pick up on the growing hysteria in Dean’s voice.  “What exactly about them makes them for women?” he asks as calm as you please, like they’re discussing the weather or football scores or something.  

Dean’s tongue-tied for a moment before he very emphatically points at the panties still resting casually at the foot of his bed.  “ _Look_  at them!”

Cas looks at the panties and then picks them up like it’s nothing.  When he rubs his fingers along the material, Dean gulps and is definitely _not_  jealous at the ease with which he can handle them.  ( ~~And he’s certainly not jealous of the panties for having Cas’ hands on them.~~ )  He very seriously takes Dean’s request, inspecting them from various angles.  

Fuck, it almost looks like he’s _fondling_  them and Dean definitely does _not_  get half-hard at that thought.

“I don’t understand,” Cas finally admits.  “Why are these for women?”  And then he offers them to Dean.

Dean totally does **not**  try to jump away and hold up his arms defensively, okay?  He was just startled is all.

“The bow!  The colors!  The size!  The material!  The fact that they were designed for women in mind!  Take your pick, man!”

Despite Dean’s very adamant denials, Cas gives a small smile.  “Why are bows innately feminine?  Men wear bow ties, do they not?  There are plenty of boxers and briefs in this color, though perhaps not quite as vibrant as this particular shade.  They come in a variety of sizes and cuts, but I assure you this one will fit you quite nicely.”

(He opens his mouth to interrupt there, ask how he could _possibly_  know that, but Castiel gives him a look.  In that look he hears the angel remind him very candidly how he rebuilt his body for him all those years ago and how ~~intimately~~ well he knows it.  Dean’s jaw snaps shut, too terrified to open that line of discussion.)

“As for the material, I’ll admit that I didn’t see any boxers or briefs in satin.  But I can’t quite fathom why men wouldn’t want to wear something so soft and comfortable.  Why are only women allowed the simple pleasure?”  

Once again he holds out the panties for Dean, only this time, Dean can feel his hand reaching out to accept them.  Ever so slowly does he take them from Castiel, suppressing a shiver when his fingers first touch them.  

They’re soft.   _Fuck_  are they soft.  As he gets two hands on them and buries his fingers in the satin, he bites back a moan.  These would feel _amazing_  against his cock and cradling his balls.  He knows from his own limited personal experience, that one time with Rhonda that he sometimes fantasizes about but never lets himself really _think_  about, just how much he’d enjoy stroking himself through them.  That he kinda likes the look of the tip of his cock peeking out and the beads of precome soaking into the fabric.  

And he _wants_  that again.  He’s too chickenshit to have ever bought a pair for himself (and lord knows he’s _wanted_  to, even put some in his cart online but never been able to let himself click the checkout button), but now they’re in his hands.  All he wants to do is strip down and put them on, feel them over his skin as he slips back into his jeans.  Have every step he takes remind him that they’re there.

But he won’t admit any of that.  After a moment, he settles on a terse, “I’ll think about wearin’ them.”  Then he ushers Cas out of his room (Cas, who has the biggest fucking grin on that it almost makes Dean’s discomfort worthwhile).

\- - - -

It takes him a solid week to work up the nerve to try them on.  He keeps them tucked in a corner of his drawer, yet every morning when he goes to grab some boxers he hears them calling out to him.  Finally he breaks down and throws the boring grey boxers back in and snatches up the green panties before he can change his mind.

He has a full length mirror on the back of his door, and he takes a look at himself.  Fuck if Cas didn’t find him the perfect pair.  They follow the curves of his ass sinfully and the color brings out the green of his eyes.  Growing more confident, he sways his hips a little and can’t help but admire how damn good he looks.  And that’s not even considering how _comfortable_  they are.  

Pleased, he pulls on his jeans and whistles to himself as he struts out of his room.  

Somehow he manages to ignore the predatory way Cas watches him walk into the kitchen for breakfast.  Because obviously Dean’s just imagining it.  Cas couldn’t possibly _know_ , angel mojo or not.  

Right?

All day he catches himself sighing in delight whenever the panties rub against him _just so_.  Or how _relaxed_ he feels, so oddly at ease.  Or - and he’d kill anyone if they so much as _suggested_ it, but it’s definitely a thought occupying some space in the back of his mind - how _pretty_ they make him feel, even if no one else knows.  

After a relatively peaceful day puttering around the bunker, doing those domestic things like laundry and cleaning up the library that Sammy bitches about but that Dean secretly loves, he calls it a night early and retreats to his room.  He’s ninety percent sure he’s going to take some alone time to jerk off and fully enjoy _everything_ about these panties, and he wants to get a jump on it in case he finds himself hard and wanting more in the middle of the night.  

He’s so intent on getting to his room that he doesn’t notice Cas following him until the angel steps into his room behind him.

“Cas!”  He throws a hand to his chest and tries not to panic.  “Seriously dude, don’t sneak up on a guy like that.”

“Can I see them?”

“See… them…?” he asks, as though they both don’t know what Cas means.

“Can I see them on you?” Castiel repeats, like asking to see your best friend wearing the panties you bought them is a totally every day occurrence.

“No!” he sputters, hands moving protectively to grasp his belt.  

 _Yes!_ shouts his dick, traitorously starting to get hard.

Cas looks absolutely crestfallen.  Dean’s heart constricts painfully at the sight and without any conscious thought on his part, his fingers start working at his pants.  His eyes lock onto Cas’ and neither look away or blink as Dean slowly strips down until he’s in nothing but the green panties.  Only then do Cas’ eyes wander down, causing Dean to blush from the tips of his ears all the way down his neck.

The angel circles around him, viewing Dean from every possible angle.  Under the scrutiny, Dean’s not terribly surprised to find himself getting harder and harder until his cock is a firm line pressing against the satin.  While Cas is out of view behind him, he sneaks a hand over to palm himself for the instant of relief it provides.

But the moment his hand makes contact, Castiel stops walking.  From behind him, he hears Castiel breathe into his ear, “How do they feel when you do that?”

There are a lot of ways Dean could respond that wouldn’t be incriminating.  He, of course, chooses to very articularly moan and palm himself harder.

“You enjoy it?” he purrs, taking a half step closer.  The barely there feel of Cas’ clothes against his bare skin makes goosebumps rush to line his arms and legs.  

“Yeah.”  It’s barely more than a whisper, but edges closer until he’s a warm, solid presence all along Dean’s back.

His arm snakes around Dean’s waist but he keeps his hands by his navel.  “May I?”

Dean has no idea what Cas is really asking, but he nods anyway.  Cas’ fingers inch lower and lower, first crawling down Dean’s arm and hand, then tracing the satin along the prominent bulge.  His dick twitches in response, a stain of precome starting to form.  

Somehow he manages to avoid whimpering (he thinks so anyway) as Cas’ tentative strokes become firmer and more demanding.  He almost wishes Cas would duck his hand beneath the waistband and touch him properly, but at the same time he can’t get over how _good_ it feels with the satin.  (Admittedly, that small barrier is probably the only thing keeping him from coming.

“You look so pretty wearing these.”  Cas kisses along his neck, barely making contact as he ghosts his lips across the sensitive skin at his pulse points.  “I knew the color was perfect for you.”  He starts sucking a bruise underneath Dean’s jaw, finally drawing out a low groan from the hunter.  “The perfect shade to bring out the emerald green of your eyes.”

“Cas…”

“Yes, Dean?”

“I want…”  

“Tell me, Dean.”  His hand dips down to fondle his balls, further still until he’s gently massaging his perineum.  “Tell me what you want.”

So much, he wants _so_ so much he can’t decide.  As his mind is abuzz with different scenarios, he plucks at the first one that starts to fully form.  “I-”  He bites his lip, embarrassed.  But Cas encourages him with a nip below his ear and a gentle squeeze of his balls.  “I want to be inside you.”  

Cas inhales sharply and then his warm presence disappears.  It’s like being dunked in an ice bath, Dean instantly wants to backtrack and apologize.  His need to fix this has him spinning around to beg the angel’s forgiveness-

Oh.

The trenchcoat’s already gone, abandoned at his feet, as Castiel methodically works his way through the rest of his clothes.  The layers drop one by one, revealing more and more tan skin and muscular planes and damn why does Cas wear so many layers, he should go around naked because a body that fine deserves to be put on display and appreciated for the work of art it is.  

He doesn’t snap out of his trance until Cas is moving to the center of Dean’s bed, spreading his legs and leaning back on his elbows while looking up at Dean expectantly.  “I believe this will require lube.”

“Yeah.”  It takes a moment for him to be able to draw his eyes away from Cas’ hard, leaking cock.  “I got some.”  

His brain must short circuit, because the next thing he knows, he’s between his legs with a couple fingers stretching him open.  In the back of his mind when Dean allowed himself to fantasize about Cas and sex, he’d always thought the angel would be clinical and detached about it.  The body’s a loaner, one Cas has often said he feels disconnected from.  

Yeah, no that was all way off base.  Cas arches and moans and strokes himself enthusiastically under Dean’s ministrations.  Damn if it isn’t the hottest thing Dean’s ever seen in his goddamn life.  His stoic best friend, his _angel_ of the friggin lord, is about five seconds away from _begging_ to be fucked as he writhes on the now three fingers Dean’s worked into him.  

And Dean has never been so turned on in his life.

“You ready?”  After Cas grunts something that sounds like a yes, Dean starts pulling off the panties.

“No!” Cas whines.  In an instant, his hands move to still Dean’s movements.  “Leave them on.”

Dean raises his eyebrows at that but isn’t about to deny the request.  He briefly considers rolling them down a bit, but Cas seems very intent on seeing them.  Instead he works on freeing his dick through one of the leg holes.  It stretches and puts pressure on his balls in an oddly pleasant way, and the green fabric is mostly still in place.  

Cas hums in approval and hooks his feet around Dean’s neck.  Slowly, Dean starts to ease in until Cas takes over and uses his legs to force the hunter to bottom out in one swift motion.  

“Oh _fuck_.”  

“Yes, good idea.  Do that.”

“Har fucking har,” he grunts, trying to let Cas adjust as well as not lose his fucking mind.  “Gimme a minute, will ya?”

Cas takes the opportunity to work a hand between them and draw lines along the panty edges.  “You really do look breathtaking in these,” he murmurs.  “If I had known just how much, I would’ve gotten you a pair ages ago.”

In order to avoid dealing with words like _breathtaking_ and _ages ago_ , Dean starts thrusting.  No matter how hard he tried to stretch the angel, he’s almost unbearably tight.  And the filthy _noises_ he makes every time Dean slams back in or manages to hit his prostate.  There’s no two ways about it, Dean’s ruined for sex with anyone else.  

“You gonna come for me, angel?”  Cas shudders in response but remains quiet.  Dean gets a hand on his cock - his first time, now that he thinks about it - and starts jerking him off.  “I asked if you were gonna come for me, Cas-ti-el.”

“De-Dean!”  His shock is evident, not understanding how he can be so affected by the sound of his full name.

“Yeah, that’s right.”  Dean smiles smugly down at him, stealing a kiss before deciding he doesn’t have the coordination to ravage his mouth too.  “You think you can just buy me panties and let me fuck you and not come when I tell you to?  Huh?”

“I-”

Dean cuts off his words with a particularly hard thrust and a twist of his wrist as he speeds up his hand.  “You’re gonna come for me, right?”  There’s a desperate note to it.  No more teasing command but rather a plea.  He wants to make Cas come, wants to see proof that he’s as hopelessly lost as Dean is.  “Please,” he adds.

He feels it before he sees it.  Cas’ cock twitches in his hand, but then the angel’s eyes squeeze shut and his mouth flies open in a silent cry.  

It’s stunning.  Dean barely even registers his own orgasm hitting him because he can’t bare to miss a second of Cas.

Eventually he collapses on top of him.  He winces once he registers the come he’s just fallen into, but honestly he can’t find it in himself to care.  He slips out of Cas and feels Cas tucking him back into his panties.  It’s incredibly endearing (and vaguely hot, but he’s nowhere near ready to get hard again).  

Wrapping the angel in a bear hug so he can roll them onto their sides, Dean sighs in contentment. “So,” he starts.  “Did you…  Did you _plan_ this?”

“Hmm?”  Cas already sounds like he’s half-asleep.

“Don’t worry about it.”  He kisses his forehead and tries to pull the blanket around them.  “We can talk about it in the morning.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **bonus scene:**  
>  dean's such a good boyfriend (and a total neat freak, which is probably more to the point) that he tidies up cas' room one day. while hanging up cas' trenchcoat, he happens to spot a huge pink bag tucked away in the corner of the closet. curiosity (as well as a nagging sense of... well, something) has him pulling out the bag.
> 
> dean: cas...  
> cas: *pops his head into the room* yes dean?  
> dean: care to explain this?
> 
> dean holds up the rather large victoria's secret bag, filled to the point of overflowing with panties. every cut and color imaginable (including a number of thongs that dean's sure would barely hold him when he's soft, never mind when he's hard). hell, there are a couple types that dean's never even heard of before (what the hell is a cheekie anyway?). lace and bows and satin and silk and cotton and basically the whole damn panty section of any store, crammed neatly into one bag.
> 
> and, if dean's not terribly mistaken, all his size.
> 
> cas: *actually looks embarrased* well, you see... i may have made some additional purchases in the off chance that you were _open_ to the first pair  
>  dean: .....  
> cas: .....  
> cas: ... should i be apologizing?  
> dean: .... take of your clothes and get on my bed, i'm gonna give you a little fashion show
> 
> sam: *in the library*  
> sam: .... my traumatized younger brother sense is going off, time for me to gtfo before some kinky deancas stuff goes down


End file.
